Players of the Stage
by DancingRaindrops
Summary: -"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."- Perhaps there's a double meaning in that. Angsty drabble.


A/N: This is a short little drabble kind of piece. A few people have told me after reading **Broken** (please go check it out if you haven't done so already!) that I should try writing some more angst. This is a different kind of angst than the kind in **Broken**, in my opinion, so tell me how it goes. Thank you! :)

**Players of the Stage**

_**"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." -William Shakespeare**_

Sometimes, Chad thinks (when he's all alone and no one is there to scoff at him and his ludicrous opinions) that the old Shakespeare guy all the teachers go on about in English class had it right.

**All the world's a stage**

It feels that way sometimes. Sometimes, when you're acting, and the lights are bathing you in this glow of stardom, and the cameras are gazing at you, their black lenses admiring your every move, giving you the attention you've always craved.

Sometimes the world is a stage, and you're the only one standing on it. The audience is cloaked in darkness, and all you can see is velvety black stretching into infinity. A single spotlight hits you, and you're free to become someone else, to pretend, to make believe it's a fairytale. The audience is captured by it, following your every move. Except it's not really your move; it's _acting_, putting yourself in someone else's shoes because it's more fun to be someone else, rather than yourself.

It is a stage, after all. And it's perfectly magical.

**And all the men and women merely players**

Players. It's a show that they all put on, all the actors and actresses and singers and dancers. They laugh, and they cry, and they fall in love, and they die (and Chad feels like he's becoming Shakespeare himself with lines like that). It's entertainment.

When the show's over, it's a bittersweet kind of feeling. You feel a rush of exhilaration as you bow, and everyone claps for your magnificent performance. You've brought them into a different world for awhile, and they love you for it. You're a kind of pilot, in a way, bringing people to one place and then taking them back again. You're an instrument to them, a means of transportation.

You are a player, after all. And it's completely thrilling.

_**But everything has a double meaning to it.**_

_All the world's a stage  
_  
It feels that way sometimes. Sometimes, when you're acting, and people more famous and rich and talented and _everything_ are pushing past you without a second glance, and the cameras are flashing in your face, determined to catch you off guard and make a headline, destroying your reputation.

Sometimes the world is a stage, and you're the only one standing on it. The audience is consumed with laughter, and all you can see is their mocking faces, pointing and deriding you. A single spotlight hits you, and you're trapped in yourself, trapped by the limits you've set yourself and the person you've created that really doesn't exist inside of you. The audience has seen through it, scrutinizing your every move. Except it's not really your move; it's being forced to do so, like a puppet yanked about on its strings because it's been caught up in something it can't control, and it doesn't know how to break free.

It is a stage, after all. And it's absolutely suffocating.

_And all the men and women merely players_

Players. It's a show that we all put on, all the men and women and boys and girls. They laugh, and they cry, and they fall in love, and they die (and is that all that the eighty-five years someone's around comes down to?). It's life.

When the show's over, it's a heartbreaking kind of feeling. You feel yourself crumble inside as you curl up into a ball and cry at night, and no one watches your tragic collapse. You've acted along with them in a perfect world for awhile, and they accept it because they want to believe that everything is how you say it is. You're a kind of passenger, in a way, being hauled around from one place to the next without any real say in the matter. You're a piece of furniture to them, a meaningless object in the room.

You are a player, after all. And it's only acting.

Sometimes, Chad thinks (when he's all alone and no one is there to scoff at him and his ludicrous opinions) that acting is extremely overrated.

_**"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." -William Shakespeare**_

A/N: Well. That was different. :P Tell me what you think! And, FYI, I think I'll be going back to my usual romance/humor/fluff categories after this. :D Just to reassure you that I won't continue being so depressing. ;)


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